Quotes About Emotions

Protecting ourselves from loss rather than grieving and healing our losses is one of the major causes of burnout. Very few of the professionals I have treated for burnout actually came in saying that they were burned out. I don't think most of them knew. The most common thing I've been told is, 'There's something wrong with me. I don't care anymore. Terrible things happen in front of me and I feel nothing.

I was the one who was fighting for survival and I was also the murderer within.

And, as an adult, you have the freedom and the access to indulge in much greater forms of self-destruction than a two-year-old could ever have. You can drink and use drugs. You can smoke. You can be promiscuous. You can kill yourself if you want to, run into the streets at night, choose to eat everything in sight, or starve yourself. It's dangerous when the raw black-and-white emotions of a child are harbored in an adult's mind and body.

I didn't understand why I could not control myself despite my best intentions.

Deeply vulnerable and hurting within as you act tough outside. You do need people; you need them so much so that it scares you to death. You drive them away so they don't get too close; yet you regret it every time you do.

If the borderline rage that had fueled me for so long was torn down and taken away, would there be anything left? Or would it take the life, the spirit, right out of me? I was daunted by the prospect of letting go without a clear idea of what would emerge in the old framework's place.

I was getting better at controlling my emotional reactions. When feelings overwhelmed me, I learned to thwart the burning temptation to act self-destructively and to sit with the feelings instead.

The thing I knew I needed to let go of most was anger. I would have to take on faith that something else would come in its place.

Missing someone meant that you are fortunate to love someone in the first place. If you don't miss them you don't love them

And that's supposed to make me feel better? What if he took her home? If he fucked her, I'll kill him, Stone. So help me God I will annihilate everything he's ever touched. She's mine now. She's fucking mine,

I'll always wonder what could have been with Steven Warner, but he never showed any interest outside of friendship so I never pushed it.

Is it always this miserable saying goodbye?

Broken hearts never truly heal, they mend, beat a little differently, forever after.

I'm no good. I'm telling you I'm crazy. Nothing in my life will ever be what you deserve. I internalize everything, and don't tell anyone how I feel. I'm reckless where others are careful. I'm also completely at a loss. I have no idea how to keep what I want most," he says. He didn't use the word "fuck" once. He's honestly telling me how he feels. "You.

A laugh-out-loud moment before she would send them to the underworld; or it would have been if she could still laugh. She's tried to remember how but she honestly couldn't make the sound anymore, another strange side effect.

Perceiving a choice between her feelings and her relationships, Dana chose to be liked by others. But the self she displayed was a mask of the person she though others wanted her to be. The Curse of the Good Girl obscured and shamed the most important parts of who she was.

Leaning to your true feelings isn't something you're born knowing how to do. It requires practice. The great news is that these skills are like muscles, the more you use them, the stronger they get. ... And trust me, the more you listen, the louder that voice will get.

A rainy day can actually be a very important day. And a small hope isn't really small if it makes a lost hope less sad.

A small happiness can make a big sadness less sad.

she's sad a lot. She's sad in the way Laura wears glasses and Max has freckles and Beth is retarded. There's no reason, it's just the way it is.

He could not talk himself out of pain any longer. He had no one to be strong for. So finally, he cried. He cried with deep sobs, head bent to the ground, palms pressed to his eyes. He cried so hard that sorrow rushed out of his face. He cried until he felt like the sea.

There were two kinds of hope: the kind you couldn't do anything about and the kind you could. And even if the kind you could do something about wasn't what you'd originally wanted, it was still worth doing. A rainy day is better than no day. A small happiness can make a big sadness less sad.

A void in my chest was beginning to fill with anger. Quiet, defeated anger that guaranteed me the right to my hurt, that believed no one could possibly understand that hurt.

I smashed his hand as hard as I could with the Wiffle bat. "Ow!" he screamed. Carson was rubbing his red palm, inspecting it for damage. "That hurt," he shrieked. "You really hurt me." "Right back at you," I said. "Good-bye Carson." He frowned, massaging his hand, the big baby. "I just wanted to end this nicely." "Yeah?" I cocked the bat up to hit him again. "Well, this time you don't get what you want.